Chapter Text
Prologue:
Cris was hungry.
Hunger had almost overcome her completely these days, but still she pressed on.
Nobody had been seen for days, too long, where was everyone? She couldn't be the only one left, she couldn't be, she…
She had to keep sane.
“Christa Mélena, 24, female, London born, London raised, Editor. Engaged to Arden Reeler, 27, News Reporter, deceased. Mother, Hallie Rays, also deceased. Father, Grant Rays. Deceased. Christa Mèlena, 24, female…”
Repetitively, she had remembered and said this sentence. She must have said it hundreds of times by now. There was no end to the loneliness. She needed a way to stay sane.
Christa had nobody. She never went by that name anymore. Her last name was simply a word.
Cris was the name she had given to the first group of survivors that had found her. And the one after that, and the one after that.
Survivor's Guilt, isn't that what they call it? She had watched everyone she knew drop like flies around her. Even little Joey, just 7 years old, too young he was too young for all of this.
Cris had tried to feed him, tried to make him drink, but by the time she had found him all she could do was delay the inevitable.
Now, she stumbled to her final destination.
Millennial Camp #17
The small boy was with her still. She couldn't tell if it was the dehydration, the fever, the exhaustion or a mix of all of them, but she could hear him. Hear his tinny sounding laugh, his pained screams as his stomach ate away at itself, his small footsteps. She could almost feel his hand in hers, oh Joey, oh baby Joe, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…
“Hey...hey are you ok?”
Cris looked up, sweat dripping down her forehead, it wasn't even that hot out, was it?
“Oh my god, Joe, Joe get over here right now!”
Something underfoot, annoying thing whatever it was. It hurt, she fell forward.
Two pairs of strong arms caught her, “Holy shit, Casper where did she-”
“She was just...walking, oh she looks sick, Joe we have to get her to camp!”
Cris heard it, the name. She whispered out for the small 7 year old, “Joseph…”
The higher pitched voice mumbled, “Joe...do you know her?”
“N-no...let's bring her to our area, get her settled. Maybe we can send your girlfriend for help.”
Dark. It was dark.
“Hey…it's gonna be ok, alright? Whoever you are...you’re going to be alright.”